Bi Way Hearts
by OfficiallyObsessedwithPyro
Summary: Gasp! The scandal! Spike is in love with Buffy but William is in love with !


Bi Way Hearts

But now I see. And I won't pretend just because this is the end.

* * *

To set the scene, imagine a small town extraordinarily similar to the former Sunnydale... Let's call it...um...SunnyVale. 

Spike, the Evil Undead One, suddenly has a flood of Images de Buffy sent to his brain for no other reason than because the Powers said so.

"Whoa," he says, and decides that he is in deep, heart-wrenching love. "I will go to where she is and attempt to talk to her despite the fact that she is a bitch most of the time and hates me."

_But wait!_ a voice that is eerily similar to the author's reminds him, _She would stake you on sight. To her you are nothing but a vampire!_

"Yes," Spike agrees, "But I will go nonetheless."

Twenty minutes later, the Evil Undead One is on an express trip to Africa. He nurses his injuries on the way. "Now I shall curse the Slayer and all of her Slayerness, though in my heart is a deep, heart-wrenching love!"

Buffy, the Original Chosen One, sneezes. "I will do nothing of importance until the Evil Undead One returns, because that would clash with the plot and the author doesn't want the readers confused." She pauses. "But I will listen diligently when my friends belittle my intended love interest as per the author's wishes."

(In the Staff Room, Amber finds herself on the wrong side of an empty beer bottle. "Oh, no. Not _again_!")

Xander, the Overbearing Best Friend Sans An Eye roars into action, "The Evil Undead One is...er...evil and...uh...undead! He must be punished for his sins. **Constant vigilance**!"

Willow, the Once Bubbly But Now Kinda Mean Power Hungry And A Control Freak adds her two cents, "I don't like him, either."

Ah. Yes, Willow, that's enough reason for you to maim him. Really.

Tara, the Nice Twitchy Wicca One, says, "Willow is my bitch." Just kidding! That was a typo. "I am nice and stutter a lot but otherwise have very little personality."

Anya, the Ex But Now Not Ex Demon just says, "I like sex. I will make constant inappropriate comments and gestures."

Dawn, the Key That Doesn't Open Anything, says, "I have used up my ten second screen time." The camera quickly moves on.

Giles, the Original Watcher, cleans his glasses. They are dirty, as glasses are prone to become.

Never mind that he cleans them in just about every scene we have ever seen him in...

He says in his very proper British accent, "I will clean my glasses and act superior."

Okay, Giles. You do that.

Anyway, Cordelia, the One With The Vision, is here, too. She sing-songs out, "I will not be helpful in any way at all except for when I give you my very vague and sketchy rendition of a vision that you will in no way be able to prove false, because it is all in my head."

Gasp! With this very touching scene with the Scoobies, Angelus, the Really Evil Undead Poop Face has found his way into the Magic Box...er...the Magic Box II. Hem.

At the sight of said Poop Face, the Chosen One immediately goes into a catatonic state, despite the fact that she has defeated him before and that there is no likely way she would forget to not let Angel into her pants after their disastrous first time.

Meanwhile, the Evil Undead One is going through his demony trials for his soul.

The buxom demon behind the desk adjusts her three sets of glasses for her three pairs of eyes. "How do you spell that, again?"

Spike rolls his eyes, "I will make a joke about your face that I find funny but that you will not understand because you are not British."

She stamps "DISCRIMINATION" on the papers, and then presses the delete button on her computer and poof!

Instant Ex Evil But Still Undead Ensouled One!

"I will win Buffy's heart now, for sure!"

A tug in the back of his head is ignored, but it must be pretty important for the author to be mentioning it now.

When he returns to SunnyVale, he finds that in his absence Angelus has turned the entire town into a vampire town.

By some chance of fate, most of the Scoobies have retained their souls.

And thus is why Anya has transported her sex-loving self away to Justice Land and why Xander and Cordelia are now nothing more than two piles of dust.

And why Willow and Giles are apparently getting it on.

"My eyes!" Spike screams like a girl, "My eyes! They burn!"

Closing that door..._locking_ that door. From the outside. Never to be opened again. Ever.

And continuing on to why Tara is crying on the front steps.

"I will now use British slang to make you feel better." Spike proclaims, ignoring another incessant tugging in the back of his head.

A voice startles Spike, "I will chime in now with verses of poetry to describe her beauty!"

"No," Spike argues, "My heart belongs to Buffy!"

"Ha! I am your soul and you are nothing!" William exclaims with emotion.

("Is that something to be proud of?" Spike would question if only, if only he had a brain!)

Spike is depressed. "I will be emo with Tara and we will end up kissing. Even though she is gay and I love Buffy."

Buffy appears in the doorway, watching them. "I will walk in on them right when they're getting to the good part. And then I will run away in tears, though I am not sure why if I am at all upset."

Spike leaves Tara's side for the house. "I will be extremely emo, now."

"Ha, ha," William metaphorically pokes him, "Loser."

"I know."

Buffy is in the graveyard. Um, things there are dead. Like Angelus, who jumps out from behind a tombstone? Yes, a very, very large tombstone.

"We will fight now."

"Okay."

Punches are thrown. Kicks are...kicked. Since the author does not know much about fighting and or writing fight scenes, you will have to use your imagination.

Buffy says, triumphant, "Now that I am a vampire I will beat you despite the fact that I am nothing more than a fledgling. And then I will not dust you, because I will let you live... unlive for another day when you want to come and kill me."

Angelus grumbles something incoherent.

"And your dislike for me will fester away inside your head until you go so far off the edge that it will bring Angel back so as to throw a wrench into the plot."

Buffy skips on home to find herself running into Spike.

"I have brought you slightly crushed roses due to the fact that I stole them from your mother's garden." He declares.

"You are evil." She tells him.

"I love you! And now you are a vampire, too!" He reminds her.

"Oh. But I have a soul."

"So do I! OMIGOD!" Spike lets out an uncharacteristically high squeak.

Buffy looks at him like he has grown another head.

"Oops."

"Hem. Well, I...uh...you're old."

"Excuse me?"

"You're...old?"

"Despite our one hundred and some odd years age difference, I have a deep, heart-wrenching love in my heart for you!"

Buffy muses.

Then she shuts the door in his face.

"What is it now?"

"I saw you making smoochies with Tara. I will be loyal to my friend, Willow, even though she is quite mean, evil and slutty now." She speaks through the door.

("Sorry, it was all I could come up with at the time," Buffy would say should she acquire a somewhat small but still there brain.)

"Oh. That was just William. He loves her because you're a bitch."

Large, dramatic tears fall from Buffy's eyes. "I knew it! I knew it was all a lie! All of those times, Spike, all of those ten-second moments! I thought you cared about me!"

"I do care!"

"_Liar_!"

"How can I make it up to you, my love?"

William pipes in with what translates to, "Don't forgive him! He is not sincere. He is an evil...uh, monster."

This confuses Buffy. "Wait...what?" She does not understand his Victorianisms.

"Uh," William throws a metaphorical stick in the metaphorical engine, "He thinks you're a bitch."

This dawns on Buffy. "Oh, I knew it, I absolutely stinkin' _knew_ it! Spike, you think I'm a bitch, don't you! I _knew_ you didn't really love me!"

Spike says, "Yes I think you're a bitch, but the difference between William and I is that I don't have a problem with it. I love you!"

Buffy thinks, considers, and ponders.

"Okay, come on in."

* * *

theend 


End file.
